CHAPTER TWO ~ INVESTIGATION
“Hello, Sophie.” Detectice Chief Inspector Sawyer looked at her friend next to her and nodded, “Gary.” The chief began explaining the situation as the three walked to the garage.
“A thirty-four year old woman has been missing for about four days.” His voice was normally gruff and abrasive.
“Oh wow. Who reported her missing?” Sophie asked.
“Her husband, Thomas Nelson. He went to University of—”
“London,” Sophie finished his sentence.
Chief looked at her in surprise before shrugging. He was used to her knowing just about everything, thanks to her close friendship with Gary.
“He filed the report a day after she disappeared. He said it was because you usually have to wait twenty-four hours before filing a report.”
“Doesn’t he realize that’s bollocks?” Gary asked.
Chief Inspector Sawyer sighed, “I don’t know why movies keep portraying that daft idea.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, the police checked his house yesterday for clues. We couldn’t find any, but—”
“Wait, yesterday?” Sophie asked in disbelief. “Why didn’t you call me then? By now, he’s probably cleaned up any other clues you lot couldn’t pick up.” Sophie revealed.
“I know, but the superintendent came here to evaluate how we work, and—” Chief Inspector Sawyer abruptly stopped. ‘Okay, that makes sense,’ Sophie thought. ‘There would be problems. The superintendent would wonder why Chief Inspector Sawyer has a private consultant on the job when it’s already part of the chief’s job description.’ He looked at Sophie, “Wait. Do you think Thomas murdered his wife?”
“Of course,” she replied like it was the most obvious answer in the world. She heard the water in the pool lapping softly against the tiles. The pool’s filtration system hummed quietly, producing a gentle gurgling noise. “Have you guys checked the pool?”
The Chief and Gary nodded. Gary said, “The pool’s proper clean. Not even a missing earring or bracelet.”
Sophie nodded. ‘The pool being clean isn’t out of the ordinary, especially during this season.’
“I’ll check the garage for any discrepancies.”
Sophie left the two men, and walked toward the garage. She stepped inside, and felt the emotions run through her like an electric pulse. The emotions she felt made her eyes widen. She felt it all over the room, particularly by the door.
‘Anger. Resentment. Hatred. That’s where she was killed.’ Sophie looked to her right and pondered for a moment. ‘She was killed right here.’
She turned around, and walked backward. She looked at the walls lined with tools used for gardening and cars. She noticed two empty spots on the walls.
‘Hmm,’ she thought. ‘A missing chainsaw and a missing cutlass.’
She looked at the ground. ‘Really faded tire marks. A car was here. Where did he leave it?’ Sophie pondered.
Her blue eyes scanned the room. ‘He used it to carry her body somewhere. The body parts are either all together at one place or separated. He wants to make this look like a Jack the Ripper-esque case. Though… that type of killing style is nothing special.’
As she stood in the room, something caught her eye. The garage buttons located on the right side of the door. She paced to them slowly, analyzed them carefully, and smiled. Blood. She found a speck of blood just in the tiny gap where the green open garage door button was placed. Though it was very, very tiny for the naked eye to see, Sophie could see it quite fine. She then thought of what had happened, and what cause blood to appear on the button. The way she envisioned the situation was quite right.
She felt a presence enter the room, and turned around.
“And who might you be?” The man asked, strolling toward her.
“I’m the Private Consultant. You can call me Saint-Clair, Mr. Nelson.”
“Oh. Saint-Clair,” Thomas smiled, licking his lips as if savoring her name. “That’s a beautiful name. Are you from Scotland?”
“Yes,” she curtly responded. Saint-Clair was the surname of her deceased husband, Daniel, but she was part Scottish due to her dad being from Scotland before he decided to live in London. But she didn’t have to tell Thomas that. He was a murderer after all.
“Are you? Nelson is an English last name.”
“You’re right.” Thomas nodded. “I’m English. I was born, and raised in Romford before I moved to London.”
Sophie nodded. “That’s great. Where were you on Friday afternoon?”
“Wow! Straight to the point!” Thomas said before he pretende to think for a moment. He replied, “The police asked me the same question. Why don’t you ask them?”
“If you told the police about your alibi, why argue about telling it to me? If your alibi checks out, there’s no need to panic.” Sophie raised a brow, “Unless… you killed her. Did you kill her, Mr. Nelson?”
Thomas sighed, before pushing his glasses up his nose, “I was at Wellington Heights School till six to teach my afternoon class. I went to a diner to get lunch and came back here around eight. You can ask my students about it.”
‘Liar.’
“What subject did you teach? What diner did you go to?”
He rolled his eyes, “I teach Mathematics, and I went to the Chinese restaurant on Rose Avenue.”
Sophie made a mental note to check the school and the restaurant. Then she had a plan—a trap to test him.
“Mr. Nelson, when I inspected the garage, I noticed a few things.” Sophie stood in front of the wall with a missing item, “Firstly, what happened to the cutlass,” she pointed to the wall across from them, “and the chainsaw?”
Sophie watched as the color drained from Thomas’s face as he glanced to where she was pointing.
“This garage…” she started. “It’s the second cleanest 1and most organized garage I have ever seen,” Sophie said, fixing a misplaced item. ‘After my own,’ she mentally added.
“I mean,” she walked, and pointed at areas where the tools she mentioned were located, “You have everything. From the weeder, trowel, secateurs, and hedge shears to your wrenches, hammer, electric drill, shovel, and ax. Like seriously. You have every tool in the book, but not a cutlass or a chainsaw?”
Sophie bent down, and used her pen to pick up something nearby, “And don’t give me no excuse. You have an extra chainsaw chain right here.” She stood up, and showed Thomas the chain.
Thomas took a deep breath, before quickly thinking up a lie. “I lent my chainsaw to a mate, but he hasn’t given it back.”
Sophie ignored the urge to make him sweat by asking questions like “And who’s that mate of yours? I’d love to talk to him,” and instead paced to the buttons.
Sophie squinted at the buttons, pretending to notice what she already saw. “I noticed some weird liquid on the buttons. I think it resembles blood.” She looked at him, noticing he quickly shifted his face to a nonchalant expression. It was so fast, but she still would have caught it even if she had blinked.
“I don’t know what you mean, Saint-Clair. Maybe you’re seeing things.”
Sophie simply nodded. “Maybe…”
She then walked inside the main house to meet with the rest of her coworkers. As soon as she stepped inside, she was pulled aside by Chief Inspector Sawyer and Gary.
“C.I.S! Gary! Let me go.” Sophie pushed herself out of their arms.
Ignoring her response, the chief asked, “So, did you find anything?”
She nodded, “I found a micro-sized speck of blood between the tiny gaps of the open button.”
“Seriously? Why do you always find weird, minute evidence?” Chief scoffed. “We can’t use that. By the time we get it, the blood will be smeared, and we can’t get the forensic team to test it.”
Gary nodded in agreement before asking, “What else did you find?”
Sophie swiftly replied, “Well, I noticed he has a spare chain for a chainsaw despite the fact it’s missing.” She then added, “A cutlass is also missing, even though he has every single tool in history.”
Gary hummed. “I noticed that too. The room was also spick and span. In fact, the entire house is spotless, as if there were no humans inhabiting it for the past few days…”
Sophie frowned, “Not even a strand of hair?”
Gary shook his head, “Not even a strand of hair.”
He then joked, “If it was any cleaner, maybe you’d want to live in it.”
Sophie grinned. “If,” she said before thinking over what Gary had said as she glanced at the wall. Pictures of Thomas and his wife adorned the fireplace. Sophie noticed a portrait facing down on the fire place, and pootled to it. When Sophie propped it up, she saw a young girl that had dark hair like Thomas, and blue eyes like Pamela. She saw another portrait with the three standing together, wearing ugly sweaters, and grinning. It was taken during the Christmas season.
‘They had a child together. Based on not seeing the child’s presence, she probably died. Thomas and Pamela looked like happy, mature adults at this time, so I do not think they’re the type to send her away,’ Sophie thought.
She nodded. “Hmm. I see what he’s doing. He’s trying to wipe every trace of his wife so that we don’t find anything. It’s an old, classic tactic.”
Gary and Chief nodded in agreement.
“So what do we do now?” Gary asked.
Sophie thought for a moment. “Were there any witnesses?” she asked.
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